My best friend’s older brother is a cold, brilliant surgeon who looks like a Greek god. I’ve always been terrified of him. One night, while devouring skewers at a BBQ joint, I passed out from blood loss and was rushed to the ER. Turns out, the icy heartthrob was the one performing my hemorrhoidectomy… Chapter 1 I might be the first person in history to be carried away by an ambulance because of hemorrhoids. Here’s how it went down: That night, my chaotic best friend, Zoey, insisted on dragging me out for BBQ. Even though I knew I’d been bleeding for days, I couldn’t resist the siren call of grilled meat. A bunch of us from middle school were tearing through skewers and beer when I excused myself to the restroom. Next thing I knew, I was on the floor. I woke up in the hospital where Zoey’s brother works. Zoey was grinning. “You’re a legend, Sarah. We were all freaking out thinking you were dying, but nope—just a hemorrhoid explosion.” “Three BBQ dinners… and you never speak of this again.” “Deal, Your Majesty!” Later, my parents showed up, and then I was wheeled into the operating room. The surgeon? Dr. Ethan Stone. Zoey’s actual brother. Before surgery, I was clawing at the door frame, wailing. Zoey was happily prying my fingers off. “Go on! My brother is the best, don’t be scared!” “I want a different doctor! Switch doctors! Mom!” The hallway leading to the OR was quiet, making my screeching even more embarrassing. My mom actually helped Zoey pry me loose. “Sarah, stop it. Ethan is the Vice Chief of Proctology. I asked around; nobody is better than him.” “I don’t care! It’s just a hemorrhoid, I don’t need a genius! I want a female doctor!” “Oh, stop being a baby! Did you learn nothing in school? Doctors don’t see gender, only patients…” In the end, I went quietly. Because while I was fighting a losing battle against my mom and Zoey, a tall figure in a white coat stopped in front of us. His dark eyes swept over me calmly. “Let’s go.” That cold voice. That crushing aura… I turned beet red, let go of the door, and followed him into the OR like a scolded puppy. Zoey says I’m scared of her brother. She’s right. Since we were kids, just seeing him makes my heart race. I won’t detail the surgery. It was a humiliating blur of consciousness and fear. I’m traumatized. Now I have a new symptom. Before, seeing him made me nervous. Now, seeing him makes me pale, dizzy, and chilled to the bone. Basically, I’m useless. Even worse was the post-op checkup. After morning rounds, Ethan walked in, pristine in his white coat, snapping on medical gloves. He pulled the curtain. His voice was icy and professional. “Pants down. Lie on your stomach.” Tears welling up, my body obeyed automatically. A rectal exam right after surgery? Kill me now! The pain made me break out in a cold sweat. I instinctively whimpered, “Ethan… Dr. Stone… it hurts, please be gentle.” Holy crap. Was that weak, pathetic voice mine? Why did it sound so… wrong? I felt his hand pause for a second. I buried my face in the pillow, wishing for death. That hemorrhoid surgery became the psychological shadow over my life. Not to mention the agony of the first post-op poop. It made me question my will to live. I howled like a banshee for days. The day I was discharged, my mom went to handle the paperwork. I sat in Ethan’s office, clutching my butt, watching him write. He casually reminded me: “Avoid spicy and greasy food. Rest well. Sitz baths with warm water after bowel movements…” Face burning, I nodded like a bobblehead. “Mhm, mhm, mhm…” After the instructions, the room went silent. He suddenly looked up, eyes narrowing slightly. His gaze was dark and unreadable. I shivered, stuttering, “G-got it. I remember everything.” A slow smile curved his lips. “Good. Go home.” Damn it. Why am I such a coward? I had nowhere to vent my frustration. Later, seeing Zoey, I snapped. I put her in a headlock. “Your brother saw everything! This is on you!” Zoey gasped for air. “Don’t shoot the messenger… Sarah, let go!” I squeezed tighter. “Today, sister teaches you a lesson!” Twenty days into my recovery, I was back to my old tricks with Zoey. My “friends” from middle school insisted on celebrating my survival. Since they brought a fruit basket to the hospital, I went. We had hotpot. They ordered a split pot, and I swear on my life I only ate from the non-spicy broth. But that night, my butt was on fire, and there was blood again. Disaster. I panicked. I texted Zoey to ask her brother if it was serious. She panicked too. “You have his WeChat! Ask him yourself! He’s home right now. Voice call him. If he asks, don’t mention the hotpot! Sisters for life, snitches get stitches!” I… Call Ethan? I opened our chat. The last message was from last year—a mass-sent link for a Pinduoduo discount, followed by a very aggressive: “Click it! Don’t make Daddy beg!” Oh god. I forgot I spammed everyone with that. How did Ethan get on that list?! Depressed, I backed out of the chat, planning to drag my mom to the hospital tomorrow. Seconds later, a voice call from Ethan popped up. I shook, hesitated, then answered. My voice trembled. “H-hello, Dr. Stone.” “Hm.” Ethan sounded tired and indifferent. “Zoey said you’re bleeding. What happened?” I froze like a kid caught stealing cookies. “I don’t know. I ate hotpot, but it was clear broth. Nothing spicy.” “Is it a lot of blood?” “Uh, not a lot, but not a little.” “Pain?” “A bit.” “Is anyone home?” “Dad’s on night shift. Just Mom and me.” “Okay. I’ll come over and take a look.” Wait, what? A house call? For my butt? I panicked. “No need! I’ll go to the hospital tomorrow! First thing in the morning!” “That works too. Be at my office by 8 AM.” The call ended. My face fell. God, why?! Can’t I see a different doctor? The next day, I went alone. Mom had work. Zoey was interning at her uncle’s company. Nobody would take time off for me. Their excuse was uniform: “You’re not three. It’s just Zoey’s brother looking at your butt. Stop being dramatic.” I was losing it. Is it “just looking at my butt”?! So there I was, back in Ethan’s office. Pants down. Lying on my stomach. Even though he’d seen it before, it had been twenty days… my face was the color of a pig’s liver. Ethan applied medicine. It was cold. I clenched. Afterward, I pulled my pants up fast. My face was burning. Thankfully, he didn’t look at me. He sat at his desk writing. “Is the constipation bad?” I nodded. “Kind of.” “How often?” “Every three or four days… once it was seven.” He looked up. God, that look again. Dark, deep, soul-piercing. My scalp tingled. “Is… is there a problem?” He chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “So young, and you treat your body like this.” I defended myself. “I didn’t mean to. I’ve been constipated since I was a kid.” “BBQ, spicy skewers, hotpot… isn’t that all you and Zoey post on your Moments? You think that helps? Hm?” That “Hm?” sent shivers down my spine. I immediately threw Zoey under the bus. “She likes it! She makes me go!” Ethan smirked, looking at me with amusement. I shut up, planning to slink away. Just then, his phone rang. He glanced at me while answering. “Yeah, she’s here. Got it. Bye.” I guessed it was Zoey. Sure enough, he said, “Zoey said to wait for her here. She’s coming over.” “Wait where?” “Here.” Awkward. So awkward… Zoey, you traitor, making me wait in your brother’s office! No, I need an escape plan. “Dr. Stone, Zoey takes forever. I’ll go wait outside.” “The medicine needs to set. Stay put.” “Oh.” I sat down obediently. I checked my phone—yep, missed calls from Zoey. I couldn’t even be mad. The silence was suffocating. Just me, Ethan, and a wall of posters about anal health. There was also a doctor profile on the wall. His ID photo. Buzz cut, cold face, sharp brows, deep eyes, high nose, thin lips… Perfect features. The bio read: Ethan Stone, Vice Chief Physician. Graduated from China Medical University, fellowship at Peking University Medical… Specializes in anorectal diseases and pediatrics… Ugh, the elite aura. I knew he was the “perfect child” every parent compared their kids to. Smart, handsome, calm… Zoey said girls have been throwing love letters at him since middle school. But in person, he was even better looking than the photo. Tall, intense, skin so pale it glowed. Combined with that aloof attitude… deadly. I sat there for a while. It was the VIP ward, so nobody disturbed him. I played on my phone, but my mind wandered. He was reading files, occasionally checking the computer. Serious profile. Sharp jawline. A beautiful female doctor walked in. Even the white coat couldn’t hide her figure. She clicked in on heels, smiling, and handed him a Starbucks. She was about to speak when she saw me. Raised an eyebrow. “Patient?” Ethan glanced at me. “Sister.” The woman paused, looking me over. She laughed, a bit flirtatious. “How many sisters do you have? I know Zoey.” Ethan didn’t look up. “Zoey’s friend. Had surgery here recently.” “Oh.” She smiled at me. “Sorry, sis, didn’t know you were here. Didn’t buy one for you.” I shook my head like a bobblehead dog. “It’s okay, I don’t drink coffee.” She turned her attention back to Ethan. Voice soft. “Let’s go see a movie tonight. There’s a good one out. After work?” “No thanks. Tired lately. Not in the mood.” Being handsome has its perks. She wasn’t mad about the rejection. “Okay, next time then. Take care of yourself, don’t work too hard.” They chatted a bit more, and then she left. Didn’t look at me again. Chapter 2 I swear I didn’t want his Starbucks. I was just thirsty. But when I awkwardly asked for a cup of water, he looked at me with scrutiny. “Want coffee?” “No!” I defended. “Just water.” He pushed his own thermos toward me. “Drink this.” What? I’m not Zoey. I can’t just use his cup… I blushed. “Do you have a disposable cup? I can pour some out.” “No. Just drink.” He didn’t look up. Voice calm. Like it was nothing. But my limbs went weak. Zoey said he was a germaphobe. He’s a doctor! Why is he so casual? Take it or leave it? He glanced at me again. I panicked and grabbed the thermos. I sat down, unscrewed the lid, poured water into the cap, and sipped like a bird. I’ll wash the cap later, I thought. “Sarah, Zoey says you draw comics at home since graduation?” Ethan suddenly spoke. I almost choked. Stuttered for a while, face burning. “Just… drawing for fun. People liked it, so I went full-time.” “Hm. That’s good.” His casual approval made me dizzy. Good? Besides Zoey, nobody says that. My mom nags me constantly. “Get a real job with benefits! Why draw cartoons at home?” I started as an assistant in college. It didn’t pay much. It’s a passion industry. You do it because you love it. My mom thinks a degree is a golden ticket. But I struggled in Hangzhou for a while. When my webcomic started getting traction, I moved back home. Honestly, it’s a bit embarrassing. Relatives always ask, “Sarah is still mooching off her parents? How much can drawing make? If it’s not $3000 a month, get a job.” Especially my aunt, who compares me to my cousin, Jinny. “Jinny works in real estate! She makes $10k a month! Can drawing compare?” And my aunt, who looks down on everyone because her daughter married rich. Anyway, reality bites. Even when I started making $10k a month this year, my aunt said, “So what? Jinny has insurance and a pension fund. What does Sarah have?” My dad supports me, though. He drives a taxi and brags to everyone. “My daughter is an artist! She bought me a new phone!” They say don’t show off to those closest to you. They’re the most jealous. But my mom wants to save face. My grandparents always favored my uncle and aunt. They gave all their savings to my uncle when his son was born. When my dad had appendicitis, they visited once with a carton of milk. But when my uncle broke his leg, they gave him $5000. No logic to bias. When I was little, I was at my grandma’s with my cousins. Four kids. They boiled three eggs. They realized I was there and said, “Oops, Sarah is here. We only cooked three.” They ate. I watched. When my dad came to pick me up and saw that, he teared up. He carried me out. “Let’s go home. Dad will cook for you.” That night he boiled five eggs. I almost puked eating them all. He said, “Don’t tell Mom.” Poor Dad. The egg incident must have triggered his own childhood trauma. My mom felt the unfairness, but she loved me. She bought me blueberries for my eyes and cacti for radiation. Compared to relatives, my friends like Zoey are great. “Sarah is a famous artist! Get her autograph now before she’s huge!” I was lost in thought and laughed out loud. Then I saw Ethan standing up, leaning against the desk, watching me. Those dark eyes again. Scalp tingling. I stuttered, “W-what time is it?” He smirked. “You have a phone.” I looked down. 10:24. “Why isn’t Zoey here? I’ll wait outside.” I tried to walk past him, acting cool. He blocked my path. “Why are you so afraid of me?” So close. So tall. The pressure… His voice was deep, magnetic, and teasing. I went numb. Didn’t dare look at him. Laughed like an idiot. “Misunderstanding, bro. Not afraid.” “Good. Otherwise, I’d think you did something guilty and were afraid to face me.” He stared straight at me. I blushed to my heels. My brain short-circuited. Just then, the door opened. Zoey, my savior! She wasn’t alone. Chase was with her. Chase was there when the hemorrhoid exploded. According to Zoey, he cried like I was dying. When I was hospitalized, while others brought fruit, he brought roses. He comforted me: “It’s okay, Sarah. Everyone gets hemorrhoids! I won’t look down on you.” I raged. “Why would you look down on me for that?!” He grinned like a fool. “Who knew a fairy like you could get hemorrhoids? I thought you didn’t even poop.” “Anyway, hemorrhoids or not, you’re still perfect to me.” Everyone laughed. I was so mad my butt hurt. “Get… OUT!” Anyway, Chase and I go way back. His dad owns auto shops. He used to be a punk, but now he’s a decent mechanic. Zoey says he loves cars. Our group has six people. We hang out a lot. Chase said, “Let’s grab lunch, then see Fast & Furious 9! It’s awesome!” Zoey and I agreed. Zoey politely asked Ethan, “Bro, wanna eat with us?” “No time. You guys go.” Expected. We ignored it. But then he smirked and dropped a bomb. “Buy tickets for the evening show. I’ll join after work.” WHAT?! Chapter 3 We tried to ditch him, but Zoey scolded us. “Are you human? My brother never wants to see movies! Sarah, he did your surgery! How can you be so ungrateful?” I shivered. So we waited. 8 PM show. Ethan arrived at 7:50. Black pants, white shirt, jacket in hand. Tall, straight, commanding. Even in casual clothes, he stood out. Short hair, dark brows, sharp nose… He was brighter than a celebrity. I saw girls checking him out. We had four seats. Me and Zoey in the middle, Chase next to me, Ethan next to Zoey. But Ethan said he might need to take a call, so he switched with Chase to sit on the aisle. Next to me. I tensed up. I didn’t want Chase to move, but Zoey kept calling him. The movie started. I clutched my popcorn. I couldn’t focus. That pretty doctor asked him to a movie, he said no mood. Then he came with us. And switched seats… I’m not dumb. This felt… targeted? Sure enough, in the dark, I put a popcorn in my mouth. Before I could grab a second, my hand was captured. My brain buzzed. It was Ethan. His long, bony hand grabbed mine and held it tight. His palm was burning hot. His thumb rubbed the back of my hand. Nobody knew. My face went white. I tried to pull back, but he held tighter. I was sweating. I didn’t dare look at him or ask what he was doing. I heard a faint chuckle. Like he was mocking my fear. I wanted to cry… 24 years old, I’ve dated before, but holding hands felt like electrocution. Heart racing, dizzy. The culprit was calm, playing with my fingers, tracing my palm. Sparks everywhere. He kept rubbing, teasing. I watched the movie in terror. Halfway through, he seemed to fall asleep. Hand still holding mine. I peeked. Eyes closed, long lashes. He looked tired. But his grip didn’t loosen. My mind was a mess. What does this mean? Does he like me? Impossible! I barely know him! And Zoey said girls line up for him… Maybe he’s just lonely and messing with me? Did the hemorrhoid surgery spark feelings? The movie ended. Nearly 11 PM. Before the lights came up, I yanked my hand back. He woke up, eyes hazy. Zoey asked, “Sarah, why didn’t you eat any popcorn?” “Ah… focused on the movie.” A scoff from behind. My face burned. “Let’s go home.” I ignored Chase trying to discuss the plot. I need to go home and hide under my duvet. Outside, the wind was cold. Ethan drove. Zoey was going with him. I could have gone with Chase. But Ethan said, “I need to go back to the hospital. Sarah left her meds in the office. And her wound needs redressing.” Meaning, he was taking me to the hospital! To take off my pants again! I wanted to refuse, but Zoey yawned and hopped in Chase’s car. “Chase will take me. Brother, take Sarah home after. Drive safe!” Chase looked at me, wanted to say something, but drove off. “Sarah, we’re going!” I watched them leave in despair. Ethan clicked his key fob, looking at me with amusement. “Get in, Fairy.” “Fairy” was my nickname from school. My WeChat name too. Hearing him say it made me numb. I opened the back door. He grabbed my collar. “Sit in the front.” I felt like a sheep entering the wolf’s den. On the way, I kept my head down. Ethan asked casually, “Is that kid Chase chasing you?” “Ah? No, he’s joking.” “Kids these days joke with roses?” “He never said anything explicit.” “Did he chase you in school?” “We were young, didn’t know anything.” I remembered Zoey saying her brother got love letters since middle school. He’s six years older. When we started middle school, he was in college. Now we’re 24, he’s almost 30. Thirty is prime for men. Handsome, successful, stable. But single at 30 means family pressure. Zoey said he bought an apartment near the hospital to hide from his parents. I felt like he was hunting me because he was bored. I gathered my courage. “Bro, what did you mean in the theater? Rabbits don’t eat grass near their burrow…” He smiled. Scary. The hospital was quiet at night. He took my hand again, led me upstairs to the office. Lights on. He put on gloves. “Table. Pants down.” I clutched my pants. “I think the morning check was enough. No need for more medicine.” “Really, it’s unnecessary…” I finally realized something was wrong. After surgery, he checked me twice a day. Curtain pulled, pants down. Was that really necessary? He laughed, taking off the gloves. “True. Unnecessary. Forget it.” Thunderstruck! My brain exploded. Anger replaced fear. “What do you mean?! Explain! Or I’m calling the police!” “Call the police?” He laughed like it was a joke. A wicked smile. “Then I should call the police too. Since you watched a man shower when you were twelve.” If I had a mirror, I’d look like a ghost. I knew it! He remembers! Zoey and I have been friends forever. Summer of 7th grade. We went to her house. Her parents were always out. Big empty house. We came back from the library. Zoey gave me the key and ran to buy watermelon. I went in. Needed to pee. The bathroom was far. I couldn’t hear anything. I opened the door and saw… A tall man showering. Steam. Muscles. Broad back. Narrow waist. I was twelve! I hadn’t even had sex ed! I froze. He looked up. I screamed internally and ran. Forgot to close the door. That day is burned into my memory, right next to the hemorrhoid surgery. Chapter 4 A twelve-year-old girl knows nothing. I was terrified. But Zoey came back with watermelon. She dragged me to the kitchen. When we came out, Ethan was in the living room. Wet hair, wet eyes. Perfect features. Wearing a white basketball jersey, sitting on the sofa watching TV. Zoey yelled, “Bro, when did you get back?” He was a college freshman on summer break. He glanced at us. His gaze swept over me like nothing happened. He ate watermelon and watched the game. Calm. He could pretend, but I was a kid. I’ve been scared of him since that day. I went to college out of town. Came back last July. The hemorrhoid surgery was the first time I saw him since then. And he held a grudge. My lips trembled. Tears fell. He looked at me deeply. No pity. “You saw everything. We’re even. Why cry?” “Are you a man?! Revenging for that? Pervert!” I cried harder. His eyes darkened. He grabbed my hand. Furious. “That? Kid, you owe me way more than that. “Yes, I’m getting revenge. I’ve never been played by a woman before. You played me like a fiddle. “I gave my heart once, and you played games. I wanted to kill you.” What is he talking about? I was stunned. Suddenly, he grabbed my waist and kissed me. Hard. Dominant. Cold scent filling my nose. My brain blanked. He bit me. Pain… He let go slowly, wiping his lip. Smiled evilly. “Tastes good. I’m less angry now.” I reacted. Punched and kicked him. “Pervert! Scum! I’ll kill you!” He picked me up easily and sat me on the desk. Hand on my thigh. Leaned in close. Eyes dangerous. “Keep fighting, and I’ll take you right here.” He’s crazy. Voice husky. Eyes wild. I cried in terror. Shook my head. “Bro, please! I’m Zoey’s best friend! I… I just had surgery! Not recovered! Next time…” Pah! What did I just say?! Ethan paused. Smiled. The viciousness faded. He lifted me down. Whispered in my ear. “Okay. Next time.” I fled home. I called Zoey, waking her up. “Zoey, did I ever offend your brother?” “Huh? How could you?” “I don’t know either…” I was sobbing. Zoey panicked. “What did he do?” “He… he wanted to kill me.” I couldn’t mention the other stuff. Zoey gasped. “No way… wait. Is it because of that?” “Speak human! What is it?!” “Don’t be mad. Promise?” “Speak!” “Remember in high school I had a boyfriend? My brother found out and made me break up. I faked it, but he found out and scared the boy off. “I hated him. He told me, ‘Look at Sarah, quiet and good. Why can’t you be like her?’ “So I wanted revenge. When we went to the library, I used your phone to add his WeChat and confessed to him.” “WHAT!” Zoey cried. “I’m sorry! I just wanted to prank him…” “What did you say?!” “Brother… I dreamed about you last night. You’re so handsome. Sarah likes you. Want to kiss you.” “…” “Don’t be mad! He didn’t reply! So I deleted him! I didn’t think it mattered!” She deleted him. But she didn’t know he added me back later. I was shocked when I saw the friend request. I was scared, but accepted to be polite. He sent four words: Study hard. I was confused. Replied: Okay. I calmed down. Zoey added, “Also…” “ALSO?!” “Ten BBQ meals! Calm down!” “Speak!” “He didn’t react, so I asked him later. ‘Bro, Sarah says she likes you, wants to be my sister-in-law…’ “He was calm. So I sent him videos. “Videos of me joking calling you ‘Sister-in-law’ and you agreeing. Like when you said ‘Sister-in-law will protect you’… I sent those.” … I’m dead. Zoey framed me. So he thinks I liked him, then got a boyfriend in college and flaunted it? He thinks I played him? “Zoey. Tomorrow morning. Explain everything to him.” “You want me to die?” “Do you want me to die?” We both silenced. “Rather you than me!” We hung up. Next day at noon. Me: “Did you explain?” Zoey: “I’m at his place. Building up courage.” “Now!” Zoey: “I might need to live at your place for a while. I’m scared.” “Did he hit you?” “No.” “Scold you?” “No. He told me not to go home for a bit.” Zoey lived with me for a month. My life went back to normal. Ethan didn’t contact me. I was relieved but confused. Sometimes I woke up from dreams about his angry face.

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Two months ago, my mentor, Professor Arthur Sterling, was murdered. The police quickly identified the prime suspect: his wife, Evelyn Sterling. During the investigation, Evelyn—my mentor’s wife—confessed to the act without hesitation. However, no matter how hard the police and lawyers pressed, she refused to reveal her motive. So, before Evelyn was formally sentenced, while she still had limited freedom under house arrest, I went to see her. As the professor’s favorite student, I hoped to use our connection to pry the truth from her lips. After hours of conversation, she finally gave me a vague answer: “I killed Arthur because he betrayed me.” Remembering the professor’s gentle and refined demeanor, I was incredulous. “Did he cheat on you?” “No,” Evelyn denied instantly. The next second, she said something that confused me even more: “Honestly, I wish he had.” Chapter 1 Evelyn dropped a sugar cube into her coffee after speaking. I sat there, stunned, unable to process her words. Not cheating? I couldn’t think of any other “betrayal” between spouses that would drive someone to murder. Evelyn noticed my reaction. She didn’t speak, just watched me with interest. If the second hand on the wall clock weren’t moving, I would have thought time had stopped. Minutes ticked by. Just as her stare began to unnerve me, she finally spoke. “If I told you Arthur cheated, would you believe it?” I didn’t understand why she was asking. But after a few seconds of hesitation, I told the truth: “I’m sorry, even if it comes from you… I find it hard to believe.” I refused to think the worst of my mentor without concrete evidence. The woman in front of me was technically my mentor’s wife, but before the murder, I had only seen her in photos. As for the victim, my late professor, Arthur Sterling— He was a titan in academia, a perfect gentleman, and lived a disciplined life. I couldn’t imagine such a man betraying his marriage. Evelyn smiled. “Right, you’re his student. You respect him.” She paused, then continued, “In your eyes, I’m probably just a crazy woman going through a midlife crisis, imagining her husband’s infidelity.” My face flushed red, and I waved my hands frantically. “No, no. I respect the professor, but I never thought that of you.” Seeing Evelyn unmoved, I added guiltily: “Professor Sterling often talked about how happy he was with you during lectures. He praised your gentleness and devotion. He said in over ten years of marriage, you never even argued. We all envied your relationship. How could I think that?” I paused, then asked: “Since he didn’t cheat, what does ‘betrayal’ mean? And if your relationship was so good, why kill him?” Evelyn’s hand froze in mid-air with her coffee cup. “I killed him precisely because I loved him too much,” she murmured. Her expression shifted for a moment but quickly returned to normal. “To understand why I killed Arthur, you must first understand why I loved him. It’s a long story. Are you willing to listen?” She looked into my eyes, her tone serious. I was stunned for a moment, then overjoyed. “Of course.” This was why I came. I was shocked and heartbroken by the professor’s death. But more than that, I craved the truth behind it—Evelyn’s motive. I had begged lawyers and signed police waivers just to be here today. I didn’t expect it to be this easy. What the police and lawyers failed to extract, Evelyn was willing to tell me. Seeing my eagerness, Evelyn wasted no time. “You know the Sterling Group in New York, right?” Chapter 2 The Sterling Group? “Of course,” I answered instinctively. Founded in the last century, the Sterling Group has grown into a massive conglomerate focused on modern services. Their business spans real estate, commercial centers, sports, and children’s industries. Their profits are astronomical. Last year, after venturing into film and television with huge success, Sterling Group broke into the Global Fortune 100. As if reading my mind, Evelyn said calmly, “Arthur was the only son of the Sterling Group’s CEO.” “What?” I nearly jumped out of my chair, my brain scrambling to recall information about Sterling Group. The CEO is over sixty, indeed named Sterling. Rumor had it he had a son, but the son never appeared in public. People said he was sent abroad young and had settled down there, never planning to return. I never imagined that person was my professor. “Surprised? Arthur didn’t have a trace of the rich kid about him,” Evelyn said. I nodded, realizing I had lost my composure. She was right. The professor lived simply, was kind to everyone, and was known for his humility. Given his academic status, his income wasn’t low, but he had zero materialistic desires and never used his status to pressure anyone. He was nothing like the stereotypical trust fund baby. I couldn’t help asking, “Did he hide his identity to focus on research without distractions?” Unlike some “academic elites” who only care about money and fame, Arthur Sterling was genuinely devoted to science and research. This was a fact known to all his students. My first thought was like a movie plot—the heir refusing to inherit the family empire to pursue his dreams. But Evelyn’s next words shocked me again. “No,” she shook her head. “It had nothing to do with academia. Arthur cut ties with his parents for me.” Chapter 3 “For you? This…” I was speechless, unable to connect this to the “betrayal” Evelyn mentioned. I wanted to ask but didn’t know where to start. “You might wonder, Arthur being rich isn’t a betrayal. What does it have to do with me killing him?” Evelyn stirred her coffee. “But a person’s character, personality, and even the choices they make are inseparable from their background and upbringing.” She looked up at me. “Since you want to know why I killed your teacher, please listen patiently to our story.” I nodded quickly. “Please go ahead.” It was spring outside. The willow branches were fresh and green, swaying gently. Evelyn sighed and began: “Arthur was a billionaire heir, but my background couldn’t have been more different. “In fairy tales, the prince and Cinderella overcome everything to be together. Reality isn’t so simple. “Arthur and I were from the same hometown. I met him in middle school, but we didn’t start dating until I was in college, many years later. “When I was at my lowest, Arthur entered my life, giving me warmth and encouragement. We loved each other deeply. “I’ll talk about our romance later. What I want to tell you now is why Arthur cut ties with his parents and hid his identity.” A nostalgic look entered Evelyn’s eyes. “Years ago, after dating for two years, Arthur suggested taking me home to meet his parents. I agreed. We had been in love for years, I was graduating, and marriage seemed like the natural next step. “I still remember how nervous and excited I was when he told me.” Evelyn paused. “But it wasn’t until the night before the visit that I found out—he was the heir to the Sterling Group.” I listened intently. “Having a rich boyfriend ensures a comfortable life, which isn’t bad news. But for me, it wasn’t exactly good news either. “As I expected, Arthur’s parents didn’t accept me. In their plan, their son should marry the daughter of a business partner. A strategic alliance to consolidate power.” Evelyn stopped. I couldn’t help but ask, “So… the professor chose to cut ties with his parents to be with you?” Evelyn nodded. “Arthur didn’t want to go to extremes initially. Neither did I. “He tried everything—reasoning, begging on his knees, even hunger strikes and threatening suicide. He did everything he could.” She smiled bitterly. “But the Sterlings wouldn’t accept me.” Silence fell again. I sighed. “I didn’t know there was such a story behind the professor’s happy marriage.” But a thought occurred to me. “What did you do back then?” Chapter 4 “Me?” Evelyn pointed to herself. “I loved Arthur. They say love me, love my dog. Theoretically, I should have loved his family too.” Sadness washed over her face. “But after everything I went through, I found I couldn’t. “I loved Arthur, yes. But from the moment I met his parents, I suffered endless blows. “People from ordinary backgrounds can’t imagine the tactics of the super-rich. “They used the most vicious words to insult and humiliate me, calling me a shameless woman seducing their son. They even hired people to threaten me. “I was surveilled, lost my freedom, and the job offer I had secured was rescinded. My future turned dark. “I was educated and young, with my own pride. I felt wronged, but mostly angry. “If my boyfriend’s parents respected me, I would respect them. Since they didn’t like me, I wouldn’t debase myself. I just wouldn’t marry him. “Besides, when I got together with Arthur, I didn’t know his identity. I honestly didn’t care if he had money. Why should I suffer such humiliation?” Evelyn spoke with passion, reliving the past. I comforted her. “You were right. I understand.” Evelyn coughed twice and took a sip of coffee. After a moment, she continued: “Later, to be with me and to protect me, Arthur proposed cutting ties with his parents. “I tried to stop him several times. He wasn’t like me. He was their biological son. If he just bowed his head, everything would be his. I didn’t want him to fall out with the parents who raised him for my sake. “But he said if he couldn’t take care of me for a lifetime, he’d rather die! “You can guess the rest—Arthur cut ties and married me. “I don’t know what he did, but after that, his parents really disappeared from our lives and never interfered again. “After marriage, he became a university professor, focused on research. I became a housewife, taking care of him and supporting his work.” Recalling the happiness of marriage, Evelyn smiled. For some reason, a strange feeling rose in my heart. I suppressed it and asked another question: “You mentioned the professor’s parents… I get it. But what about your parents? What was their attitude?” Evelyn’s pupils shrank, and her eyes moistened. She exhaled deeply, suppressing her emotions. “My mother died in childbirth. My father… he died of a heart attack at work when I was 12. “Long before I met Arthur, I was already an orphan with no parents.” Guilt washed over me. “I’m so sorry! I brought up painful memories. I didn’t know…” Evelyn waved her hand. “It’s okay. I was going to talk about this next anyway.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled at me. “I told you, to understand why I killed Arthur, you must understand why I loved him. “Even Arthur’s parents probably don’t know this. They don’t even know how Arthur and I met. They just thought I seduced him. “Otherwise, why would Arthur ignore so many wealthy heiresses to marry a poor orphan like me? “But now I want to tell you the secret behind our love—the reason I loved him.”

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Every time my fiancé, Julian Blackwood, was reassigned to a new post, he demanded I travel ahead to prepare everything. Not for our future, but for the comfort of his mentor’s daughter, Lillian Vale. This time, Julian was demoted to a remote outpost in the Dakota Territories. He urgently ordered me to pack up my small bakery and take a riverboat west. Perhaps he rushed me too much, or perhaps my fever from a lingering cold clouded my mind. Halfway through the journey, I realized I was on the wrong boat. “Miss, this boat is headed for New Orleans, not the Dakotas,” the captain said gently. The captain, a kind man, offered to drop me at the next port so I could catch the right vessel. I stared at the misty river for a long time before finally speaking. “No need. New Orleans will do just fine.” Chapter 1 When the captain told me I was on the wrong boat, I was still reading the letter Julian had shoved into my hands before he left. Just like always, it was three full pages of instructions. But not for me. For Lillian Vale, the daughter of his disgraced mentor. Autumn is approaching. I hear the Dakotas are damp and prone to snakes. Purchase snake repellent. Lillian is frail; ensure the house faces south to catch the sun. Lillian fears the cold. Place extra coal braziers in her room and buy only the finest anthracite. The local food is too spicy for her delicate stomach. Find a cook who specializes in mild, refined cuisine. Lillian loves poetry and flowers. Plant a garden for her, but avoid gaudy peonies. She prefers chrysanthemums, plum blossoms, and orchids. Lillian dislikes uneducated servants. Find maids who can read and write. Lillian has been melancholy lately. See if there is a local opera troupe to entertain her. Lillian’s skin is sensitive. Buy several yards of the softest silk for her new dresses. … Lillian, Lillian, everything was about Lillian. I flipped to the end, hoping to find my name even once. I didn’t. My head throbbed from the fever, and the dense handwriting made my eyes ache. I should have been used to this. It wasn’t the first time. Lillian Vale was the daughter of Julian’s mentor, a once-powerful Senator who had been the Vice President’s closest advisor. But two years ago, a scandal involving embezzlement and treason rocked Washington. The Vice President was forced to resign, and the Senator, pleading his case too strongly, was stripped of his titles and influence. The once-glamorous Vale estate became a place to avoid. The Senator died of a broken heart shortly after, leaving Lillian alone. Julian, ever the loyal student, defied the political winds and took Lillian in, caring for her with a devotion that bordered on obsession. He told me he could never repay his mentor’s kindness. He had to care for Lillian until she found a suitable husband. So our wedding was postponed. Again and again. From Washington D.C. to Ohio, then to Missouri, and now to the Dakotas. Each demotion was because of her, yet he never worried about his career or me, his fiancée. He only worried if Lillian was comfortable. He always made me travel ahead to prepare the way. He said Lillian was a delicate flower, raised in luxury, so she had to travel slowly in a cushioned carriage. The first time I traveled by boat to prepare a home for them, I was violently seasick for weeks. I nearly died. When Julian found out, he offered a few words of comfort before immediately asking if Lillian’s room was ready. That time, I dragged my sick body around for a month to create a perfect sanctuary. When Lillian finally arrived, she glanced at my handiwork and sniffed, “Thank you, Sarah. It’s… livable, I suppose.” Just that one sentence made Julian’s face fall. He didn’t scold me, but from then on, his instructions regarding Lillian became more detailed, more demanding. Chapter 2 “Miss?” The captain’s voice brought me back. I asked how far the Dakotas were. Julian’s list was long; it would take weeks to fulfill. But maybe because he rushed me, or maybe the fever had addled my brain, I had boarded the wrong boat. “This boat is going to New Orleans,” the captain repeated. Panic flared for a second. The captain saw my pale face and assumed I was in trouble. “Don’t worry, miss. With the current, we’re making good time. I can drop you off, and you’ll only be delayed five or six days.” I watched a seagull skim the water and disappear into the gray sky. My hand tightened around the letter. I stared blankly until my eyes focused on the very last line of the letter. Thank you for your hard work, sister. Julian. That was the only line addressed to me. Julian always called me “sister” when he needed something. I pulled the marriage contract from my bag and ran my finger over the signatures. Two hearts united, a vow for eternity… Signed, Julian Blackwood – Sarah. He wrote this after passing the Bar exam with top honors. Back then, he was radiant. “Sarah,” he said, eyes shining, “I will never let you down.” The Blackwoods were once wealthy merchants, and I was a servant girl bought by Mrs. Blackwood. My gambling father had planned to sell me to a brothel. Mrs. Blackwood saved me and assigned me to eight-year-old Julian. But tragedy struck. Mr. Blackwood was killed by bandits during a trade run, and the family fortune was lost. Mrs. Blackwood fell ill, and the servants were dismissed. I stayed. She had saved my life; I owed her mine. For years, it was just the three of us. I took in washing, did embroidery, my hands raw and cracked from the cold water. Later, a kind bakery owner taught me to make pastries, and I opened a small stall. That’s how I supported Julian through school. When Mrs. Blackwood died, she made Julian kneel and swear he would never abandon me. From then on, it was just us. He started calling me “sister,” terrified I would leave him. “Sister, I’ll become a great man,” he promised, tears in his eyes. “I’ll marry you properly and you’ll never suffer again.” I thought it was just a child’s promise. But the day he passed the Bar, he rode home on a high horse, holding the marriage contract. “I’m here to marry you, Sarah.” My heart surrendered then and there. But then Lillian appeared. The first time we met her, she was reading under a peach tree at the Senator’s estate. A breeze blew petals onto her book. She brushed them away and smiled at us. That smile stole Julian’s heart. He started visiting the Vale estate constantly. He forgot to bring me chestnut cakes. He forgot to teach me to read. He forgot my birthday. He forgot the marriage contract. When Lillian asked who I was, he said casually, “She’s a maid my mother left me.” Chapter 3 “Miss?” The captain called again. A gust of wind snatched the marriage contract from my hand. It danced in the air before landing on the water and sinking into the dark river. “Your paper!” the captain cried. “I don’t have a net…” I didn’t move. I watched the spot where it vanished. “No need,” I said softly. “Just go to New Orleans.” “But your paper…” “It wasn’t important. Let it go.” I wasn’t going to the Dakotas. I wasn’t waiting for Julian anymore. I threw Julian’s three-page letter into the boat’s furnace. The fine paper burned in an instant. The captain didn’t ask further questions. He handed me a cup of hot tea. “New Orleans is a good place,” he said. “Better than the Dakotas.” I smiled but said nothing. My heart felt incredibly calm, like a thousand-pound weight had been lifted. The boat traveled for another week. When we arrived in New Orleans, the weather cleared, revealing a vibrant, bustling city. It was a wealthy place. Perhaps because my mood had lifted, my cold was gone. I paid the captain and walked onto the dock with a light step. I didn’t have much money. Julian’s salary had barely covered his lavish spending on Lillian; my bakery earnings had subsidized everything. But years of managing his household had taught me how to stretch a dollar. I rented a small, cheap courtyard in a decent location and set up my bakery again. My pastries were good—soft, sweet, and comforting. In Washington, I used to sell out early every day. Julian had once stopped me from selling pastries after he became an official, saying it was beneath us. But when money got tight with Lillian around, he suggested I start again. “You’re used to being busy,” he said. “I worry you’ll be bored.” Now I realize he wasn’t worried about me. He was worried Lillian would have to live frugally. To him, Lillian was jade, and I was just a stone. I shook my head and served a bowl of warm tofu pudding to a customer. It was all in the past. Now, I lived for myself. I planned to save money, buy a small house, plant a garden, maybe raise some chickens. If I had extra, I’d travel. I had been blind before. Julian was never meant for a village girl like me. I had repaid Mrs. Blackwood’s kindness for ten years. It was enough. Julian and I were even. Chapter 4 The carriage journey took a month. Lillian couldn’t handle the bumps, so they stopped constantly. Julian calculated the time, figuring I should have arrived in the Dakotas by now. But he felt uneasy. Usually, I would send a letter upon arrival to report that everything was ready. This time, no letter came. Julian began to worry. Had something happened to me? “Lillian, Sarah hasn’t written. I’m worried. Should we pick up the pace?” Lillian coughed weakly, her face pale. “It’s my fault. My weak body is delaying us. Julian, go ahead. Find Sarah. It’s not safe for a woman alone.” She coughed again, looking like she might faint. Julian panicked. “No, no. You can’t handle the rush. Sarah has always been fine before. She probably just forgot to write because she’s busy. We’ll rest a few more days.” Lillian’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m such a burden. I make Sarah work so hard. sometimes I think I should just die…” Julian held her, forgetting all propriety. “Don’t say that. The Senator would be heartbroken. I will never abandon you.” He sat down to write another letter, this time filled with annoyance at me. Sarah, if you are in the Dakotas, write back immediately. Lillian is worried sick and blaming herself. Don’t play games and make us worry. The weather is getting cold, and Lillian’s cough is back. Make some pear syrup and buy a fox fur coat for her… He wrote four or five pages. At the end, looking at the pages filled with Lillian’s name, he felt a twinge of guilt. He remembered how pale I looked the day he sent me away. He added a line: Is your cold better? Sister. But it looked awkward. He crumpled the paper and started a new sheet. He wrote only eight words: Thank you for your hard work, sister. Julian.

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On New Year’s Eve, my husband and I got into a massive fight over his sister-in-law. The reason? His sister-in-law bought his mom a thick gold necklace, while I, the younger daughter-in-law, showed up empty-handed. My husband felt I embarrassed him in front of his family. I didn’t hold back. One sentence from me—”You didn’t pay a dowry, so why should I pay for gifts?”—made him completely lose his mind. Chapter 1 My husband, Chris, was my college sweetheart. When we started talking marriage, my parents asked for a traditional dowry of $18,000 to help with the wedding costs and future security. Chris immediately balked. “I’m not giving your family $18,000. That’s selling a daughter, not a marriage.” “I don’t have that kind of money, and I won’t ask my parents for their retirement savings. That would be unfilial. If you really want it, I’ll take out a loan, and we can pay it back together.” He lectured me about financial independence and not leaching off our parents. He painted a picture of noble poverty. Finally, he proposed a “perfect” solution: The 50/50 Marriage. No dowry, no bride price, split expenses, split housework. At the time, I thought he was just being practical and independent. Like an idiot, I agreed. At first, things were fine. We kept our finances separate and split the chores. But a few months later, the cracks started to show. It started with my mom’s birthday. I casually asked him what gift we should get her. That simple question triggered an explosion. “Lily, did you forget? We have a 50/50 marriage! We agreed: each person handles their own parents. Now you’re trying to get money out of me? Is your family that desperate? Always staring at my wallet!” His words were so ugly I turned red with anger. “Fine, don’t buy anything! But why be so nasty? You married me; my parents are your parents too. Is it so hard for a son-in-law to show a little respect?” Honestly, I didn’t fully understand his version of a “50/50 marriage.” I thought it just meant we were equals. His accusations left me stunned. “A son-in-law can show respect, but only if I want to give it. You can’t ask for it. Besides, in a 50/50 marriage, I don’t owe your relatives anything. If I give, it’s charity, not duty.” Seeing my expression, he softened his tone slightly. “Sorry, I know that sounded harsh. But we agreed before the wedding. You can’t break the rules.” Seeing his self-righteous face, I finally realized something was wrong. “So you mean, in this marriage, I don’t have to do anything for your parents either? No birthdays, no holidays?” “Of course. We manage our own families. I won’t break the rules,” he said, lifting his chin arrogantly. “Ha. Then why didn’t you say anything on Mother’s Day when I bought your mom clothes and supplements?” Chris flushed, embarrassed for a second, then argued back, “That was your choice. You’re her daughter-in-law; it was a nice gesture.” “And you’re my mom’s son-in-law! Where was your gesture?” I shouted, losing my temper. “I told you! I can give voluntarily, but you can’t demand it! I was going to give something, but since you asked, now I won’t. Figure out your mom’s birthday yourself. I’m not going.” He slammed the bedroom door. Chapter 2 I didn’t beg him. On my mom’s birthday, Chris didn’t show up. Not even a text. To save face, I made up an excuse for him. After the relatives left, I told my parents everything. At first, I was calm. But as I spoke, the tears started falling. “Mom, Dad, I didn’t know ’50/50 marriage’ meant this. I thought it just meant no dowry. When his family visited, I booked the hotel, paid for dinners, played tour guide… I never thought when it was my turn, he’d say ‘I don’t owe you anything.’ That bastard…” I cursed him out, letting all my frustration go. I expected my parents to be furious. Instead, they were surprisingly calm. “Why cry? This is a good thing. Now you don’t have to worry about buying gifts for your in-laws anymore. Let Chris handle his own family. It’s fair.” My parents were more open-minded than I thought. Their perspective cleared the fog in my brain. Chapter 3 After that, I changed. No more gifts for his family. No more holiday texts. I even left their family group chat. Chris noticed immediately. “Lily, why did you leave the group chat? How will my parents find you if they need something?” He rushed home from work, ready to fight. “Why would they need me? They can find you. We agreed: 50/50 marriage, no interference with in-laws. Besides, you’re not in my family group chat either.” Chris… He choked on his own logic. He stared at me for a long time, then stormed into the study to make a call. He never brought it up again. Ignoring his family was liberating. I cooked when I felt like it. When I didn’t, I ordered takeout. One night, Chris came home and saw me eating spicy takeout fish. He frowned. “Takeout again? It’s unhealthy. My doctor said my liver isn’t great; I shouldn’t eat greasy food. Can’t you be more considerate?” “Then don’t eat it. The kitchen is right there. Cook for yourself!” I rolled my eyes. Hearing me tell him to cook, Chris exploded. “I work hard all day! I have to cook when I get home? Can’t you be like other wives? Handle the domestic stuff so I have a comfortable home to come back to?” Comfortable home? I scoffed. “Buddy, ‘other wives’ got a dowry and a wedding. They get provided for. You didn’t pay a dime. This is a 50/50 marriage. You can’t have your cake and eat it too.” Chris turned green. Slam. He walked out. Chapter 4 We lived like roommates for months. Cold war. Until just before New Year’s Eve, Chris broke. He sent me a WeChat red envelope with $520. I stared at the transfer. “What’s this for?” We had been so strict with money for three months. My first thought wasn’t joy, but suspicion. What did he want now? “My year-end bonus came in. Can’t I give my wife a big red envelope?” He rolled his eyes, acting annoyed but clearly trying to bridge the gap. His confidence made me feel petty for doubting him. I blushed and accepted it. The ice began to melt. It felt like we were back to our dating days. But the peace didn’t last long. A week later, the conflict returned. One night, half-asleep, Chris whispered in my ear. “Babe, come home with me for New Year’s this year? Next year, I’ll go to your parents’.” He sounded so careful, afraid I’d refuse. Honestly, I didn’t care. My parents lived nearby; I saw them all the time. But I hadn’t planned on playing the good daughter-in-law after our fights. “Babe, I know we said ‘separate holidays,’ but it’s your first year married. If you don’t come, my parents will lose face in the village.” He looked pathetic. I softened. “Fine. This year at yours. But next year at mine. And on the second day of New Year, I’m visiting my parents, and you have to come. No backing out.” Chris nodded furiously, promising the moon. His hometown wasn’t far, about an hour’s drive. I packed light. Just a change of clothes. When Chris saw my single bag, his face fell. “That’s it?” He walked around me. “Just one bag?” “Yeah? It’s not far. What else do I need?” “Yesterday I saw you bought lobster, bird’s nest, and expensive supplements. Where are they? Are you letting them rot here instead of bringing them to my parents?” Chapter 5 He was agitated. “Oh, those? My mom asked me to buy them for her. I dropped them off yesterday.” I explained with a smile. I thought that would settle it. Instead, Chris looked even angrier. “What is your problem?” I frowned. “My problem? You have the nerve to ask? I told you a week ago we were going to my house. You didn’t prepare anything for my family?” He started lecturing me. “You’re married now. You need to detach from your original family and focus on our small family. Stop funneling everything back to your parents!” His lecture turned my face dark. So that $520 red envelope was bait. He expected me to use it to buy expensive gifts for his family. “You want to focus on ‘our small family’? Then put some money on the table! We are AA (splitting costs), remember? You said 50/50 marriage means we aren’t responsible for each other’s relatives. Now that it’s New Year’s and you need to save face, the rules change? Who’s the one being greedy? Damn it, even if I did buy those gifts for myself, I’d throw them in the river before giving them to you!” I was yelling now, cursing freely. Chris turned pale. He pointed a shaking finger at me. “You… you’re talking about money again! Didn’t I give you $520? Couldn’t you use that to buy gifts?” “$520? To buy lobster, bird’s nest, and supplements? Chris, are you living in 1920? Do you have no shame?” He choked, face flushing red. He clearly wanted to scream, but could only manage: “Well… you can’t show up empty-handed! What do we do now?” He glared at me. I glared back. “How should I know? It’s your house, not mine. You’re the son; you didn’t prepare. What can I, the daughter-in-law who got zero dowry, do?” Mentioning the dowry shut him up instantly.

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My husband, Adrian Sterling, came to pick me up. This man, usually so cold and composed, known for his professional boundaries. Actually let his new assistant sit in the passenger seat. I knew right then: this marriage was over. Chapter 1 That day, Adrian drove to pick me up. When I opened the passenger door, I froze. A young, pretty girl was sitting there, smiling sweetly at me. “Hi, Mrs. Sterling!” She greeted me politely. But she made no move to get out. I narrowed my eyes and looked at Adrian. He was on the phone, looking down, completely missing the tension. We were supposed to go to a private auction together. I had dressed up, looking forward to our date, only to find someone else in his passenger seat. “Hi, Mrs. Sterling! I’m Bella, Mr. Sterling’s new assistant.” The girl’s smile was warm, revealing cute dimples. “I heard you guys were going to an auction tonight, so I begged Mr. Sterling to let me tag along and see the world. Don’t worry, I won’t disturb you two.” My heart sank. I knew this cold, perfect man too well. He always kept his distance. He didn’t let people in easily. We married for business, a strategic alliance between our families. But we chose each other. People joked I’d be living like a widow with such an icy husband. But after we got together… Adrian would hold me gently. In moments of passion, his eyes would redden with emotion. He said, “You are my wife. We are one. You are different from everyone else.” Today, something had changed. Chapter 2 But I wasn’t a doormat. I was Chloe Summer, and I never swallowed my anger. “Get out!” I kicked her out, cold and merciless. The girl froze. She didn’t expect me to embarrass her right off the bat. Maybe my tone was too harsh. Bella looked lost. “I… I’m sorry, Mrs. Sterling.” Her voice trembled with tears as she scrambled into the back seat. Adrian finished his call and looked over. He realized I was angry. A look of helplessness and indulgence crossed his face. He leaned over to buckle my seatbelt. Realizing the seat had been adjusted, I angrily moved it back. I fumed. “So annoying! Why does everyone think they can touch my seat!” The air in the car froze. The girl in the back was too scared to speak. Adrian frowned slightly. He suggested calmly. “If you’re in a bad mood, let’s just go home.” In the rearview mirror, the woman was silently crying. I was fed up. “Bella, was it? I’m not in the mood anymore. Call an Uber. Mr. Sterling and I are going home.” The girl went pale, looking weakly at Adrian. He didn’t save her. She got out of the car, looking devastated. Chapter 3 Adrian would never embarrass me in public. He knew how to control his emotions. So he suggested going home. Whatever happens, solve it at home. That was our unspoken rule. “She’s just a college grad entering the workforce. Why be so hard on her?” Adrian pulled me into his arms. “First time.” Adrian was confused. “What?” “In all these years, this is the first time you let another woman sit in your passenger seat.” He didn’t expect that to be the issue. Everyone knew how perfect Adrian was. Countless women liked him. But he kept himself clean. He walked through the garden but let no leaf stick to him. Adrian smiled faintly, rubbing my hair. “I can’t believe you’re jealous.” He leaned down and kissed me, his nose brushing my cheek. “She’s just my subordinate. That’s all. “There will never be anything between her and me.” Adrian cupped my face, looking into my eyes. His voice was deep, promising. Chapter 4 A woman’s intuition is rarely wrong. Even though I’d only met Bella once. I knew she wanted Adrian. I thought my initial warning was enough. But the next day, the necklace that should have been my gift was around her neck. Adrian’s chief of staff, Helen, sent me a photo and a screenshot. In the photo, a diamond crescent moon necklace hung on Bella’s pale neck, making her look even more delicate. Her eyes were red, but she was smiling. She must have cried last night and received a “comfort gift.” The screenshot was Bella’s Instagram story: [The boss said girls should be strong even when wronged! Wiping my tears. Yes, sir, my Boss!] A few “fighting” emojis. And a picture of the necklace in its box. My blood ran cold. I hate to admit it, but she got to me. It felt disgusting, like a mosquito splattered on my favorite white silk scarf. I wanted to drive my yellow Ferrari at 100 mph and slap her face. But looking at my hand, I realized fighting a low-level “pick-me” girl was beneath me. I called my sales associate at Hermes, Wendy. Wendy sounded thrilled. “Mrs. Sterling, don’t worry! I’ll empty the store if I have to. I’ll get everything to you today!” So, before the workday ended. Every female assistant and executive office staff member at Sterling Group HQ—46 women in total—received a gift from the CEO’s wife. A Hermes necklace worth $15,000. It wasn’t the $200,000 auction piece, but the quantity made a statement. Helen handled it smoothly. She required everyone to post on Instagram with the caption: [The boss’s wife says every girl deserves better! Fist pump. Yes, ma’am, my Boss’s Wife!] The girls were happy to comply. As assistants, they were the gossip hub of the company. Who wouldn’t want to post a gift from the CEO’s wife? Some smart ones added: [The boss’s wife knows how to play!] Their individual influence might be small, but their collective gossip power was terrifying. Within 30 minutes, the whole company knew I gave everyone a Hermes necklace. As for why, the rumor mill was already churning. Bella turned pale. She felt humiliated. Red-eyed, she hid in the bathroom to take off the diamond necklace. Two colleagues walked in to touch up their makeup and snickered when they saw her. Bella felt ashamed. She lowered her head, rushed out of the bathroom, leaving the laughter behind. Her cheeks burned. She put the necklace back in the box. And returned it to Adrian, untouched.

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Sebastian Sterling watched my transmigration happen in real time. He knew my mission from the System was to capture his heart at any cost. This breathtakingly cold man held a cigarette between his fingers, looking at me with arrogance, amusement, and disdain. “Since you’re here, you belong to me now. You’re my dog.” “As your master, I order you to donate your kidney to my sister.” Is she really his sister? Why did the System call her his “unattainable white moonlight”? His adopted sister with no blood relation? Whatever. It doesn’t matter. We strong women have our own lives to live. When faced with the unreasonable demands of scum, the answer is simple: fight back. A slap for the girl, a roundhouse kick for the guy. And the System? Drag it out and beat it senseless too. Just another Tuesday. Chapter 1 “I’m not donating a kidney.” I interrupted Sebastian Sterling, turning to leave. Immediately, the System’s warning flared in my mind. [Host! I brought you to this world to conquer Sebastian Sterling! You must gain his affection points bit by bit and win his love!] A glowing dot flickered insistently before my eyes. I frowned. Is a man’s love some kind of holy grail? I should fight tooth and nail, ignoring money and power, just for a man’s fickle affection? Am I crazy? [But look at him! Sebastian is incredibly handsome, isn’t he?] I turned to look at Sebastian. His gaze held a contemptuous confidence. “I’m not the first transmigrator, am I?” His reaction was too calm. It was hard not to be suspicious. Sebastian raised an eyebrow slightly. “You’re smart.” “What happened to the ones before me?” Are they dead? Sebastian didn’t answer. He took a deep drag of his cigarette, a playful smile playing on his lips. I stepped forward, snatched the cigarette from his hand, and crushed it between my thumb and forefinger. Sebastian froze for a second, then exhaled the smoke slowly into my face. “Interesting.” “They’re all dead, right?” Only by completing the mission could one return to their original world. Since no one had won Sebastian’s love, the mission remained unfinished, yet the previous transmigrators were gone. So… [Host—as long as you—] Shut up! I scolded the System in my mind, staring down Sebastian. The man seemed lost in a pleasant memory, the corners of his mouth lifting as he spoke slowly. “Some fell madly in love with me instantly, only to jump off a building when I rejected them. Some half-heartedly became my mistresses and died of depression. Some used their skills to serve me, only to die miserably after I squeezed every drop of value from them. Some did my dirty work and were silenced. Some fought back desperately, but eventually submitted, dying just last week after enduring torture.” He finished, looking at me with amusement. “Let’s make a bet. How long until you’re on your knees, begging for a scrap of my affection?” He leaned forward, a manic excitement in his eyes. “With your spirit? A day?” “Why, you dying tomorrow? In a rush?” I retorted. The System in my head let out a piercing screech. After thirty minutes of fruitless persuasion, its tone finally changed. [If you don’t turn back and seriously try to gain Sebastian’s affection, I will have to use force.] Force? I looked up at the glowing dot. Suddenly, a bone-deep pain washed over me. Electric shock. [Host, this is just level one. If you persist in your stubbornness…] It didn’t finish. I had already rushed into the bathroom, locked the door, and grabbed the glowing dot, pulling it in front of me. Without a word, I punched it. A scream echoed in my mind. I smiled triumphantly. “So you…” Before I could finish “feel pain too,” another wave of agony hit me, stronger than before. I didn’t hesitate. I punched the light five times in a row. During this, it shocked me four more times. Each shock twisted my face in pain, but I kept my fist clenched tight. I didn’t say a word. I just kept punching. “You better kill me right now. As long as I have breath, I will beat you to death.” I threw three more punches. “Let’s see who dies first.” Chapter 2 I wasn’t called the “Iron Lady of MIT” for nothing. You System might have cheats, but I, Chloe Strong, didn’t earn my name for nothing. Strong. Agile, brave, quick, intelligent. Especially the brave part. I live up to the name. After being knocked unconscious three times and locked in a stalemate for four hours, the damn System finally surrendered. [I was wrong. I shouldn’t have brought you here. I’ll send you back now.] “You dare?” I held the visibly dimming System, my voice cold. “Send me back? So you can grab more innocent girls to be blood bags for Sebastian? So he can torture them and enjoy their begging and death?” I paused, voice dropping lower. “Do you know how many cuts are in ‘Death by a Thousand Cuts’?” [3,357 cuts,] the System answered reflexively. “Correct. Not one less.” I pulled a fruit knife from my pocket and waved it, pretending to stab the System. It shivered violently, weak but struggling to beg for mercy. [I won’t send you back. I won’t. Really, Boss.] “Fine.” I moved the knife away slightly. “Call me Big Sis.” [Yes, Hos… Big Sis.] “Don’t breathe a word of this to Sebastian.” [Don’t worry, Big Sis. Systems only interface with the host. Aside from the initial handover, no one else in this world can see or hear us.] Good. “Now, give me all the data on Sebastian and his ‘sister.’ Remember, I want everything.” Chapter 3 “I agree to donate my kidney to your sister.” I stood before Sebastian with my hands in my pockets, gripping the System tightly, feigning defeat. The man smiled arrogantly, provocatively, as if everything was under his control. He put down his wine glass and glanced casually at his watch. “Five hours. So far, you’ve lasted the longest.” He clapped lazily three times, a slow applause. But the sneer never left his lips. “Kneel, woman. You are now qualified to be my dog.” “But you aren’t qualified.” I looked at him coldly. “I agreed to donate a kidney, not my dignity or my soul. Put away that high-and-mighty act, Sebastian. You’re disgusting.” I made no effort to hide my revulsion, which surprised him yet again. He swirled his wine, silent for a moment, then smiled knowingly. “New tactic, huh?” He stood up. His six-foot frame imposed a slight pressure as he walked toward me, step by step, until he broke my personal space. “Playing hard to get? Trying to get my attention?” He reached out and tapped my nose lightly, nodding with a smile. “I admit, your little tricks are working.” [Big Sis! His affection points went up! From negative to 10%! It’s a good sign!] The System blurted out, marveling that it might accidentally complete the mission. “Noisy.” I snapped impatiently, pushing Sebastian away. I wiped my nose repeatedly with a wet wipe before turning to leave. “Don’t contact me until the surgery is scheduled.” I needed time to plan. But Sebastian didn’t understand English. He knew I had just transmigrated into his wife’s body and had nowhere to go but his villa, yet he insisted on coming back to this house. Even though he hadn’t been back in two years. Disgusting. Seeing him in the house felt like swallowing a fly. But the fly kept buzzing around me. “Madam, Sir is actually cooking for you personally today!” The housekeeper ran upstairs, surprised. I sat up in bed. Is he poisoning the food? “Sir really loves you! Look, he won’t say it, but he’s secretly watching you with binoculars!” The housekeeper looked like a fan shipping a couple. Me: … Eating anything he makes will only kill me. [Big Sis, affection points plus five. He’s enjoying this.] The System chimed in inappropriately. Did I ask you? I shot a mental glare, and the System went silent. Chapter 4 I deliberately went downstairs thirty minutes late. At first, Sebastian chuckled at my “pride,” but after five minutes, he was extremely impatient. [Big Sis, affection -10.] [Big Sis, affection zero.] [Big Sis, affection negative.] [Big Sis, he’s going to flip the table!] With every update, I checked my watch, noting Sebastian’s tolerance. Only thirty minutes. Wow, impressively short. I sighed and went downstairs just before the table flip, sitting in the chair furthest from him. His face was dark, silent. He just ate. So I ate too. Bang! He kicked the table leg. The solid wood shook. I didn’t look up, just ate faster. Crash! He smashed a bowl. I felt annoyed. I didn’t know who this toddler tantrum was for, but I wasn’t watching. Splosh! He dumped an abalone into my soup. Liquid splashed onto my face. I put down my chopsticks and stood up to leave. “Hey, you—” Sebastian stood up angrily to call my name, but he didn’t know it. He ran over to block the stairs. “What… what is your name?” He crossed his arms, impatient, like a god deigning to ask a mortal. “Got a crush on me?” I countered. “No, you…” “Contact info. Mine.” I handed him a handwritten card. It read in huge letters: “PROFESSIONAL PIG CASTRATOR.” “Are you sick?!” He tore up the card, about to explode, but then seemed to remember something. He forced down his anger, pulled me back to the table, and served me a bowl of soup. “Drink. I made it for you.” Suspicious. Highly suspicious. I glanced at the soup. “Too greasy. I don’t like it.” “Be good. It’s good for you. Helps the kidneys. Drink every drop.” So that’s it. I wondered why he was suddenly playing chef. It was for my kidney. In his eyes, I’m just an organ container, right? I picked up the bowl, stood on the chair, and poured the soup over his head. “Since you love it, drink up. Drink up so you can give your kidney to your sister, then open your eyes wide and watch her moaning under you, watch her moaning under someone else.” I finished and tried to flip the table. Too heavy. Crash! I yanked the tablecloth. Dishes shattered everywhere. “Go wear your green hat!” I vented, grabbed my bag with the money, and headed for the door. I heard Sebastian laugh coldly behind me. “You. Very good.” He looked at me with cold eyes. As his affection hit rock bottom, his confident, mocking expression returned. “Within three days, you will come crying, begging for my forgiveness. No, tonight.” I slammed the door. As I looked back, I saw him mouth: “I’ll be waiting.”

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My brother was my target. My mission: To get him to celebrate my birthday with me just once before I turned eighteen. If I succeeded, I lived. But my brother hated me. He blamed my birth for killing our parents. He cursed me more than once: “Chloe, why didn’t you die instead?” I never dared to hope he would celebrate with me. Until my eighteenth birthday. It was my last chance. I gathered all my courage and called him carefully: “Lucas, please celebrate my birthday with me just this once, okay? Or else… I’ll die.” But his voice was filled with disgust, utterly careless: “Then hurry up and die.” The call ended. I smiled, a broken, tragic smile. Okay, Lucas. As you wish. … That night. Lucas, who was busy celebrating his adopted sister’s birthday, was called back to work for an emergency. To perform an autopsy on my body. Chapter 1 [Host, this is the last chance.] [If your brother still refuses…] The System didn’t finish the sentence. But I knew it couldn’t bear to say the rest. The System had been with me since I was born. We had spent eighteen years together, day and night. even a cold machine develops feelings eventually. But my only brother still hated me so much. I pressed my lips together. Summoning every ounce of courage, I dialed Lucas’s number. But the voice that answered was bright and cheerful—it was Mia. “Chloe? What’s up?” My chest tightened. Mia… the sister Lucas adopted from the orphanage. But in his heart, she was the real sister. I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat and asked, voice rasping: “Where’s Lucas?” Mia’s voice bubbled with excitement: “Lucas is setting up fireworks for me! He’s celebrating my birthday today!” I froze. Even though it wasn’t the first time Lucas celebrated Mia’s birthday instead of mine, my heart still stung. Chapter 2 Lucas adopted Mia on my seventh birthday. From that day on, my birthday became Mia’s birthday. Every year after that, Lucas would take her out to celebrate. And I never dared to ask him to stay. I never dared to ask him to celebrate my birthday. I slowly looked up at the clock ticking on the wall. I didn’t have much time left. “Put Lucas on the phone.” Mia’s innocent tone couldn’t hide her bragging: “Why do you need him? He worked overtime for two weeks just to clear three days to celebrate with me.” I lowered my head, the sourness in my heart spreading. Lucas was willing to spend three days celebrating Mia’s birthday. Would he spare three minutes to eat a slice of cake with me? “Mia, who is it?” Lucas’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “It’s… it’s Chloe.” After a shuffling sound, the phone was in Lucas’s hand. “Hello.” Fear and nervousness gripped my throat. I couldn’t speak for a moment. Until Lucas’s impatient voice came through: “If you’re not talking, I’m hanging up.” “Wait—” I stopped him quickly. Swallowing hard, I begged carefully: “Lucas, can you celebrate my birthday with me… just once? Just this once.” My heart pounded with hope and dread. After a long silence, Lucas finally spoke. But his tone was dipped in ice: “You have the nerve to celebrate a birthday?” My heart froze instantly. For years, I thought I was used to his coldness. But in this moment, facing impending death, tears welled up in my eyes. I choked out a plea: “Just this once, Lucas. Please, just this once, okay?” In my panic, I blurted out the truth about the System to make him believe me. “Or else… the System, the System will erase me. “I’ll really die, Lucas.” Chapter 3 The sound of my breathing and heartbeat seemed deafening in the quiet room. I gripped the phone tightly, waiting for Lucas’s verdict. Maybe it was only a second. It felt like a century. Finally. Cold, hateful, indifferent words came through: “Then hurry up and die. “You killed Mom and Dad. Dying would just be paying your debt.” I shattered. Every word was a jagged blade, stabbing into my heart, over and over. Tears fell uncontrollably. I knew. I knew I didn’t deserve a birthday. But I still held onto that tiny sliver of hope. After all. We were the only two people left in this world with the same blood. We were supposed to be family, relying on each other. But… My brother wanted me dead. Fine. I didn’t really want to live anyway. Chapter 4 A faint sigh echoed in my mind. [Host, do you want to… try one more time?] [Go find Lucas. Even if he only stays with you for a minute.] [I’ll apply to HQ to count it as a success.] I smiled tragically, thanking the System for its kindness. “No need.” What was the point? To be hated so deeply by my only family. What was the point of living? I had known since I was little that Lucas hated me. The System told me my mother had a difficult birth with me. I was supposed to die. But Mom didn’t want me to die. She fought to bring me into the world. She traded her life for mine. That same night, Dad, distraught over Mom’s death, got into a car accident. From the moment I was born, I carried the sin of killing my parents. Lucas’s hatred for me was boundless. But… Lucas. I lost Mom and Dad too. Chapter 5 The clock struck 11 PM. I wiped my tears and gently untied the ribbon on the cake box. I lifted the transparent lid. The sweet scent of cream filled my nose. Before I died, I wanted to taste a birthday cake. I had never eaten one before. And I never would again. I took out the “18” candles and placed them gently on the cake. I pulled a lighter from the drawer. A breeze from the window kept blowing the flame out. I stood up and walked to the balcony to close the window. Just then. A brilliant firework exploded in the ink-black sky. Light cascaded down like a waterfall. Beautiful. I stood by the window. Letting the night wind fill my loose, thin dress. Filling the hollow, desolate cavern of my heart. One firework after another trailed silver tails into the sky. Exploding into thousands of stars. Sixteen of them. Mia is sixteen this year. As the last sparks faded, drones formed words in the sky. “Happy Birthday to My Sister.” The wind was strong. It made my eyes sting. That’s nice. Mia is lucky to have a brother who loves her. Chapter 6 The wind howled in my ears. I took a step forward. I was never loved in this life. Next life— Forget it. Let’s not have a next life. Chapter 7 I took another step. My body leaned over the railing. Then, without hesitation, I let go. Falling straight down. Goodbye, Lucas. Chapter 8 Because the floor was so high, my death was gruesome. My soul floated in mid-air. Even looking at myself, I thought it was horrific. Face unrecognizable, limbs twisted, bones shattered. Like a dirty, broken doll nobody wanted. It was late, so there weren’t many people around. Someone called the police. Sirens wailed in the distance, getting closer. I looked up. Watching lights turn on in the windows, people peeking out. [Host, it wasn’t time yet.] The System sounded sad. I knew it meant it wasn’t midnight yet. “It doesn’t matter. Half an hour won’t change anything.” [But I detected your brother’s car heading this way.] [Maybe he was coming back to celebrate with you.] Really? I looked at my broken body inside the police tape. I thought: Lucas will be happy to see me dead. Officers were documenting the scene. Lucas’s car drove into the complex. [Host, he really came back.] [If you hadn’t jumped early, the mission might have succeeded.] The System sounded regretful. I didn’t feel much. Maybe when you die, emotions fade. My soul drifted toward Lucas uncontrollably. Lucas got out of the car, Mia following him. She stood on her tiptoes, trying to see the commotion. Lucas pulled her head into his chest, his voice gentler than I had ever heard: “Don’t look, Mia. It’ll scare you.” Chapter 9 Mia nodded obediently. She whined in his arms: “But Lucas— “You said you’d stay with me until past midnight.” Lucas rubbed her head affectionately. “Be good, Mia. I’ll be with you as soon as I’m done.” Mia pouted, grumbling unhappily: “It’s all that jumper’s fault. Why jump now?” Lucas tapped her head lightly. “Mia, show some respect for the dead. “I’m a medical examiner. Autopsying bodies to help investigations is my job.” So. Lucas was only called back to dissect my corpse. He didn’t come back to celebrate my birthday. Good. Good. I didn’t have hope anyway. Mia shook Lucas’s arm, muttering: “I know, I know. I just wanted you to spend more time with me.” Lucas pinched her cheek helplessly. Floating in the air, I watched the loving siblings. Actually, I was envious. I never acted spoiled with Lucas. Lucas never treated me with such tenderness. Between us, there was only his hatred and my fear. Worried about Mia going upstairs alone, Lucas asked his assistant to take her up. As soon as she opened the door, Mia called out cheerfully: “Chloe, we’re back!” She probably wanted to brag about the fireworks and drones. But the only response was silence and darkness.

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The day I won the Oscar, thanks to resources from my boyfriend, he found someone new. Later, to pave the way for his new lover, he stole my endorsements and movie roles. When I confronted him, he laughed mockingly, his tone cold. “You started out just like her. Give her a turn.” I didn’t argue. I simply deleted his name from my acceptance speech. Later, my secret social media account was exposed, documenting every moment of my love for him. My ex-boyfriend found me, eyes red and looking utterly broken. “Did you really love me that much?” I smiled and shook my head. “It’s all in the past.” Chapter 1 A mysterious tycoon spent forty million dollars to celebrate the wrap of rising starlet Bella Lin’s new drama. The news instantly hit #1 on Twitter. In the fan-captured photos, Bella sat in a convertible, eyes shining as she watched the fireworks and the massive billboard. People said her smile was sweet, just like mine used to be. But my attention was on the corner of the photo, where I could faintly make out the elegant brow and nose of a man. Just from that silhouette, Bella’s fans identified him. Lucas Sterling, CEO of Sterling Group. The comments were filled with how perfect they looked together, shipping them like it was the wedding of the century. My agent, Sandra, saw my pale face and scoffed. “Jealous? When I tried to set you up with sponsors before, you weren’t interested.” “You said you wanted to rely on your own talent. Why are you envying someone else now?” Envy? Hardly. It was just a pang of melancholy seeing my ex-boyfriend with another woman. Since we blocked each other, our only connection was the monthly transfer to my account. Four thousand dollars. Memo: Living expenses. So, seeing that woman receive forty million dollars worth of affection stirred something in me. I forgot how long ago it was when I told Lucas: “I love acting, but I make so little right now. I have to be frugal.” He hugged me tightly, heart aching for me. “It’s okay. My money is yours.” Back then, his family had frozen his cards to “build his character.” He only had a salary of four thousand a month, but that fool was willing to spend it all on me. Maybe that’s why seeing such a grand gesture now felt so bittersweet. I opened my secret Twitter account, @HiddenLoveDiary, and typed: [Day 99 without him. Still miss him.] Chapter 2 Before we even reached the event venue, Sandra exploded again. “Chloe! Your endorsement got snatched!” “How could they do this? We were about to sign the contract, and they backed out last minute!” Seeing me calm, even trying to comfort her, she got even angrier. “Aren’t you mad? Do you know what being the Asia-Pacific ambassador for Dior means for you?” I knew. But the person who snatched it was Bella Lin, and the man behind her, Lucas Sterling. If he wanted to make someone a star, he would bring the best of everything to her feet. I just happened to be in the way. After walking the red carpet, I saw Bella sitting in the seat that was originally assigned to me. She looked around curiously with her doe eyes. “Why are you here?” I asked. The moment she saw me, tears welled up in her eyes. Although her acting was mediocre, her timing for tears was impeccable. Just as a teardrop fell, Lucas arrived. Among the crowd of beautiful people, his looks weren’t the flashiest, but his cold, aristocratic aura set him apart. Facing Bella, his voice softened. “Why are you crying?” He reached out to wipe her tear. They were truly inseparable. Bella wiped her eyes and stood up timidly. “Maybe I upset Chloe. She doesn’t want me sitting here.” Lucas looked at me with displeasure. “Chloe, don’t be unreasonable.” “Just give her the seat.” I should have been understanding and left. Maybe the forty-million-dollar news had messed with my head, because I actually argued back. “I begged Director Su for this seat next to him. Why should I give it up?” Funny enough, I originally sought out Director Su for Lucas’s sake. Now I was being asked to move, also for his sake. Fate is a cruel jokester. As soon as I spoke, Bella cried harder. Lucas looked up, glaring at me coldly, a sneer playing on his lips. “Didn’t you climb up using a sponsor too? Can’t you empathize with her?” “Didn’t you do anything for resources back then? Why act so high and mighty now?” I was speechless. This was the first time Lucas humiliated me for another woman. He was right. We were both women relying on powerful men. What right did I have to speak? Chapter 3 When I first started dating Lucas, I didn’t know he was the heir to the Sterling empire. I was an extra in Hollywood, playing corpses, stunt doubles, anything to get on camera. Sometimes I’d bring an extra box lunch home to share with Lucas. “Today they brought a real horse to set! But the lead actor couldn’t ride, almost fell on his butt!” I told him about my dreams, my ambitions. He, who grew up in luxury, would stuff cheap food into his mouth and laugh at my stories. Later, Lucas climbed the corporate ladder quickly. I found out he was the Sterling prince. I was angry he hid it, but after he coaxed me for two days, I forgave him. “Omg, my boyfriend is a super rich heir!” I was laughing in my sleep. I recorded it on my secret account. [@HiddenLoveDiary: Day 561 with him. He’s a secret billionaire! No more suffering for me!] That tweet went viral. Comments were full of lemon emojis (jealousy). Soon, I stopped being an extra. I asked him for the best acting coaches, the best trainers. Top movies that actresses fought tooth and nail for… I got invitations without even auditioning, just because Lucas made a call. I was living the dream. That night, I was excited until late. On the way home, he was silent. Near our house, Lucas suddenly spoke. “Chloe, do you love me, or the resources I can give you?” I froze, tongue-tied. He laughed self-deprecatingly, cupped my face, and touched his forehead to mine. “I don’t know why you’re so desperate to build a career.” “But as long as I’m here, you can relax.” Such a proud man, bowing his head for me. I should have been flattered. But, if one day you fall for someone else, what happens to me? We are from different worlds. How would I even see you then? [@HiddenLoveDiary: Day 611 with him. I’m getting scared.] Chapter 4 My mind went blank. Sandra pinched me hard before I realized I won. Best Supporting Actress. An Oscar. The applause and the heavy statue told me this wasn’t a dream. I scanned the audience. Lucas stood out. No mockery, just looking down, seemingly expecting something. I read out the names in my speech, one by one. Until the final pause. I once told him, when I win an Oscar, we’ll go public. I glanced at Bella in the audience. She looked pale, like a defeated rooster. So, I swallowed the last name and calmly thanked everyone else. “Thank you, Chloe. A netizen asks: You had so many expensive resources early in your career. Is there really a sugar daddy behind you?” The host was sweating. Someone else was setting me up. I looked at him for a moment, then laughed, raising the microphone. “Instead of a sugar daddy, let’s say a lover. We dated as equals. No one depended on anyone.” “I don’t deny that because of him, I had a professional team and great teachers.” “But I never tried to get things I didn’t deserve. Winning Best Supporting Actress today is the result of my hard work.” I stood tall, no cowardice. I used Lucas. There’s no shame in that. Even now, I don’t regret using his money to climb higher. “Do you still love him?” Lucas sat up straight in the audience, staring at me intently. He seemed to forget that long ago, I loved him humbly. “Lucas, I didn’t just care about my career. I wanted to be closer to you.” “I can’t just be a useless trophy wife.” “Calm down. Can we just… be together properly?” That day, the snow was heavy. Lucas walked fast. I fell behind him. I screamed his name, but he didn’t turn back. Later, the doctor applied medicine to my wounds. I flinched in pain. The doctor comforted me like a child. “It’s all over now.” I met Lucas’s gaze, smiled, shook my head, and told him what the doctor told me. “It’s all over now.”

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Chapter 1 I spent two years in Switzerland recovering from an illness. On my first day back in New York, my cousin Chloe threw a welcome home party for me in the Hamptons. The guests were all the heirs and heiresses of the city’s elite. Long time no see. The girls who used to hang on my every word were unusually quiet today, sitting in silence. Even my younger half-brother, Vincent Vance, the heir to the Vance Empire who used to follow me around calling me “Sister,” treated me with a distant coldness. At my own party, I, the guest of honor, was being given the cold shoulder. A commotion erupted at the entrance. Gabriel Sterling walked in, holding a woman’s hand. The quiet banquet suddenly sizzled like water dropped into hot oil. My brother was the first to jump up and welcome them. “Gabe, Felicity, you guys finally made it.” The heiresses who were stiff and silent a moment ago suddenly came alive. “Felicity, come sit here!” “We saved a seat just for you.” The young woman surrounded by the crowd smiled brightly, her posture graceful and light. Gabriel, standing beside her, looked at her with such tender eyes. They looked like the perfect couple. If Gabriel wasn’t my fiancé, I might even ship them. My cousin Chloe, ever the gossip, leaned in and whispered, adding fuel to the fire. “Cousin, see that? That woman was the stand-in they found. But she stood in for so long, she started thinking she was the main character.” “If you came back any later, she’d probably be pregnant.” Chloe and I grew up together. My aunt was lazy and often dumped her at our estate to be raised alongside me. My mother couldn’t say no to her sister, and fortunately, our family had the money to raise another child without blinking an eye. Two months ago, Chloe sent me a photo. In the photo, Gabriel was intimately holding a young woman who looked about fifty percent like me. I heard this Felicity Quinn, a newfound daughter of the up-and-coming Quinn family, had been raised in the countryside. She only returned to the New York social scene two years ago, right when I left for Switzerland. At first, Felicity imitated my style and dress. Because she looked like me, she was mocked as a cheap copycat. But later, the circle discovered that while she looked like me, her personality was gentle and submissive—the complete opposite of my arrogant, domineering reputation. Felicity was far more likable. Besides being gentle, Felicity knew how to liven up a party. Summer rafting trips, autumn fishing, winter skiing in Aspen. She quickly became the core of the social circle. My former minions gravitated toward her. My brother Vincent, who initially despised her, eventually started treating her like a real sister, getting the warm sibling affection he never got from me. Even my fiancé, the Sterling heir Gabriel, went from yelling at her not to copy me to looking at her with deep affection, as if she were his real fiancée. Chloe, my real-time scout, sent me every detail. I couldn’t feign ignorance even if I wanted to. “Miss Quinn looks like me?” I looked at her sharply. Felicity trembled, habitually hiding behind Gabriel. I scoffed. “You all need to get your eyes checked. Where is the resemblance?” Today, I wore a white cocktail dress. Felicity also wore white. I wore a priceless pink diamond necklace. She wore pink pearls. Felicity was indeed pretty. But even wearing the same color and similar style, I didn’t see the resemblance in our features. My words silenced the room. People glanced at each other, their expressions complicated. Felicity was the first to react. Her face paled as she said unwillingly, “Miss Vance is known as the most beautiful woman in New York. How could I deserve to be compared to you?” The crowd frowned, displeased by her humility. “Sister, looks are determined at birth. It’s not Felicity’s fault she looks like you. You demand to be unique in everything, but you can’t take your anger out on an innocent person,” Vincent said. I almost laughed out loud. If I were truly taking my anger out, would any of you still be standing here? “Idiot. Did you not realize I was insulting you?” I was speaking to Vincent, but my gaze slowly swept over everyone present. “Two years gone, and the Vance Princess’s temper is still this bad?” “We used to think they looked alike. Seeing them side by side, the sickly Miss Vance really can’t compare to the rosy Felicity.” “Miss Vance just has okay looks. But her personality…” My temper is notorious. Everyone knows it. My father once told me a woman should be like water—gentle and yielding. But a flood is also water. Rather than internalizing the stress, I prefer to burn others. Watching these people, whose fake peace I shattered with one sentence, trembling in fear… It was boring. “You call this a welcome party? You all look at me like you’re at a funeral, but you’re all smiles for the irrelevant Miss Quinn.” “Chloe, thanks for organizing this. But in the future, don’t invite me to any event where these people are present.” I grabbed my clutch, ready to leave. As I passed Felicity, her best friend suddenly screamed. She stumbled, and the gift box in her hand tilted. A massive white crystal geode slid out and smashed onto Felicity’s foot. Her instep instantly turned red. In an instant, Gabriel’s roar filled my ears. “Seraphina Vance, what are you doing!” “Felicity spent ages finding this crystal geode for you! She thought it would purify your aura and help your health. If you didn’t want it, fine, but why smash it?” Gabriel and I grew up together. He was the “flower on the high cliff,” cold to everyone. Even on the day of our engagement, he was expressionless. This was the first time I’d seen him so angry. Right now, he was kneeling on the ground, checking Felicity’s injury. Confirming nothing was broken, he stood up and glared at me. “Everyone came to welcome you back. But you? You spewed cold sarcasm and smashed a gift, making a scene.” “Two years, and you haven’t changed a bit.” Slap. A crisp sound echoed. Gabriel finally shut up. So much talking. I relaxed my wrist and pulled back my bag. The metal studs on it had scraped Gabriel’s shoulder. The crowd watched the show, stunned. Gabriel looked at me in disbelief. “You hit me?” I hit you. Do I need to pick a lucky date for it? I sneered. “You are still my fiancé. Defending another woman in front of me? Did you think I would tolerate this disrespect?” I thought my temper had improved over the years abroad. Anger hurts the liver, after all. If it were the old me, I would have started a brawl. They seemed to have forgotten who I was. Start trouble, get hit. “Miss Vance, it’s all my fault.” “I… I didn’t know the gift was so fragile. If I held it flat, it wouldn’t have fallen.” I laughed coldly. “Of course it’s your fault. Sending me a crystal? Do you think I’m some evil spirit that needs purifying?” Felicity cried. A true beauty, her tears were pitiful. While covering her face, I saw the corner of her mouth twitch upward. Smiling for me to see. Only I could see it from this angle. Gabriel’s face darkened further. He stopped rubbing his shoulder and turned to comfort Felicity, throwing harsh words at me. “I didn’t know you were so unreasonable.” My brother also pointed at me. “Sister, what did Felicity do wrong for you to treat her this way?” “When I see Dad tonight, I’m definitely telling him to punish you!” I laughed, waved my hand, and turned to leave. “Go ahead and tattle.” “And ‘Sister Felicity’? Since when can any random cat or dog be your sister?” “Oh right,” I stopped and turned back. “Gabriel, did you forget? Our engagement was something your father brought you to my house to beg for.” “Since you like Felicity so much, I won’t stand in your way. I agree to break the engagement. You can explain it to the Sterling family yourself.” Might as well finish them all off. I turned to Felicity. “As for you, do I look stupid?” “I have a bad temper, but I walk fast. I didn’t even touch your friend. She dropped it herself to frame me.” “Don’t believe me?” I pointed at the garden lamp. “That surveillance camera should have a great angle.” After my tirade, Vincent looked gloomy, Gabriel looked livid. Felicity’s face alternated between red and white. The others looked uncomfortable. They were unhappy, so I was happy. I’m used to it. They gossip about me to my face or behind my back. I’m not a masochist. If someone talks smack, I hit back. “No need for you to tattle. I’ll do it myself. I will send the footage of everyone’s behavior today to the heads of your respective families.” “This place has HD cameras everywhere. Your outfits, expressions,” I waved my phone, “and even what you said, are recorded clearly.” Ignoring their panicked expressions, I turned to walk out. I bumped straight into a man entering the garden. Strong hands gripped my arms, steadying me. I looked up into a flawless, devastatingly handsome face. The man blushed and gently let go. But I wasn’t in the mood for eye candy. I pushed him away. “Don’t touch me. Move!” Instantly, the man’s face turned redder, pink spreading to his ears. I frowned. Does this guy like being scolded? “Cousin,” Chloe said weakly. “Let’s go together.” “Oh, ignore him. He likes getting yelled at.” Does that kink exist? He was so handsome; he must have a unique personality. He felt familiar. Seeing me look at him, the blushing man introduced himself. “Miss Vance, hello. I am Julian Thorne.” Thorne family? A second-tier family, a step below the Vances and Sterlings. Before I could react, Julian shoved a gift box into my hands and ran away. Sitting in the car, I was still confused. “Julian Thorne? Have I met him?” Chloe leaned back comfortably, tapping on her phone. An AI voice spoke: “Julian Thorne, second-in-command of Thorne Corp, second son of the family head. Current net worth in the billions, potential inheritance hundreds of billions. Age 22, unmarried, height 6’2″. Size unknown, but estimated comparable to a water bottle…” My face flushed. What kind of dirty AI is this? “You don’t know him? Had to use AI?” “Uh, should I know him? It’s my first time seeing him too.” I looked at Chloe with amusement. Keep acting. Chloe feigned ignorance. “Cousin, why don’t you see what he gave you?” She quickly grabbed the box and unwrapped it. When the packaging fell away, Chloe gasped. She held up a velvet cushion displaying a glass-texture Imperial Jade bangle. Such a bracelet was rare even at auctions. I examined it and slid it on. It fit perfectly. Chloe tutted. “Cousin, you say you don’t know him, but he knows your wrist size and taste perfectly.” I turned my wrist, watching the emerald light flow within the jade, and smiled. The party was unpleasant, but getting a perfect bracelet wasn’t a bad haul. Maybe the jade had a calming effect; I slept well that night. I woke up early. After finishing my morning Pilates, it was barely 8 AM. Once ready, I had my bodyguards go to The Cloud, the elite restaurant the circle frequented. They set up a massive screen at the entrance and looped the edited video from yesterday’s party. Felicity’s fake fall, Gabriel’s scolding, Vincent’s rage. Everyone else was helpfully subtitled with their names and dialogue. Passersby, customers, and internet sleuths uploaded it online. It went viral instantly. The socialite WeChat groups were buzzing today. A bunch of people tagged me, demanding to know what I meant. I sent a “smile” emoji and left the group. According to my assistant, the heirs tagged in the video were severely punished by their families when they got home. After all, who gave them the guts to mock the Vance heiress to her face? In the afternoon, Father called me to the study. Vincent was standing straight by the coffee table, head down. Seeing me, he glared and whispered, “What are you doing here?” I smiled, ignored him, walked to the sofa, and sat next to Father, acting sweet. “Dad.” Vincent continued his rant. “What are you proud of? You just rely on Grandpa and Dad spoiling you.” “Felicity grew up suffering in the countryside. You targeted her the moment you came back.” Father patted my hand, then grabbed a book and threw it at Vincent. “You helped outsiders mock your sister, and you have the nerve to speak? Get out!” Vincent left the study unwillingly. I watched the door close. “Dad, are you really going to let him inherit the company?” Father returned to his calm demeanor. “Your brother lacks experience, and you’re just causing trouble.” He handed me the documents he was reading. It was a record of the insults from the other families involved today. Just ugly words. “These families all rely on the Vance family for scraps to live this good life, right?” I handed a prepared folder to Father. “Dogs that bite people should die. Dogs that bite their masters should be put down.” With every page he turned, Father’s face grew darker. When he finished, he slammed the file on the table. “Ingrates!” The file detailed how several companies had blocked, price-gouged, and trapped Vance Group’s overseas projects. I was indeed in poor health. But recovering abroad was half-true, half-false. No one guards against a sickly non-heir. While ostensibly recovering in Switzerland, I investigated the Vance family’s overseas assets and hidden pitfalls. There were plenty. And the culprits were the domestic families we had helped. My biological mother died shortly after giving birth to me due to complications. Father later married Linda from the Lane family, and they had Vincent. Among the families conspiring against Vance Group was the Lane family. This made Father even angrier. The Vance Group was meant to be handed to Vincent. But this son was so eager, he wanted to carve out chunks of the company now. “The Lane family has sucked a lot of blood using Vincent’s name these past few years.” “Dad, can you bear to see the Vance Group become Lane property in the future?” Father understood. But Vincent was his only son. He hesitated. The company was still meant for him. Colluding with the Lanes wasn’t enough to disown him completely. “I’ll think about it. You can go.” Expected. So I brought up breaking the engagement with Gabriel. Father agreed. After all, Gabriel slapped the Vance family in the face. The Vance heiress didn’t need to worry about finding a husband. Worst case, I wouldn’t marry and would just enjoy life. A few days later, news of the broken engagement reached the Sterlings. Gabriel couldn’t sit still. When Gabriel stormed over to find me, I was having afternoon tea in the garden with Chloe. Seeing Gabriel from afar, Chloe tried to bail. “You guys chat, I have stuff to do.” She retreated to the corridor, watching from a safe distance. Gabriel didn’t notice. He marched up and sat across from me. “Seraphina, we need to talk.” I was in a good mood, ignoring his rudeness. I pushed the teapot toward him. “Talk about what?” Gabriel’s face was grim. “Why did you break the engagement like that? My father scolded me because of it. Do you know what the rumors are saying?” I leaned back comfortably. “What could they say? That I’m arrogant and willful, unloved by my fiancé?” “Or that Young Master Sterling is engaged to me but hangs out with Felicity all day?” Mentioning Felicity, Gabriel thought I was jealous. “Felicity and I are innocent. I just treat her as a friend I can talk to. Why break the engagement over jealousy?”

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I died in my world and woke up in a novel. Not as the heroine, but as the quintessential “mean girl” villainess. In the original plot, my character, Chloe, was destined to spend her life tormenting the female lead, only to be destroyed by the two powerful men who loved her. But when I arrived, the story hadn’t started yet. I chose a different path. I became best friends with the heroine, cheered on her romance, and eventually married the “gentle” second lead—the man who was supposed to pine for her forever. For thirteen years, I thought I had rewritten my fate. I thought I was loved. Until I found the journal. 1 I stared at the positive pregnancy test in my hand, my heart swelling with a peace I’d never known. Thirteen years in this world, and for the first time, I felt like I truly belonged. I wasn’t just a soul occupying a character’s body anymore; I had a real anchor. I had transmigrated after my death into this novel, taking over the life of Chloe, a girl who shared my name but was infamous for her cruelty. But I felt lucky. I arrived before the plot kicked off. I never did a single thing to hurt the leads. In fact, because Sarah was so bright and kind, we became inseparable. I was her ultimate wingwoman, encouraging her to chase the male lead, watching them fall in love, and eventually standing by her side as her maid of honor. Sarah was the second person I wanted to tell the news to. The first, of course, was my husband, Julian. Julian was originally the “nice guy” second lead who was supposed to silently pine for Sarah. But because of the butterfly effect of my changes, he stopped chasing her. He turned all his focus and devotion toward me. After thirteen years together, I truly felt cherished. I had married for love, or so I thought. Now, with our little family about to grow, I couldn’t wait to share the news with him. 2 I decided to be a little playful. Instead of just telling him, I wanted him to find the test himself. I slipped into his home office and sat at his desk. Rifling through a drawer, a weathered, old leather journal caught my eye. It looked out of place among his sleek, organized files. It was tucked at the very bottom, only visible because he must have been in a rush and left it slightly crooked. I picked it up, smiling. It looked like a vintage notebook from our college days. The edges were frayed, the pages yellowed. We never had secrets, so I didn’t hesitate to open it. The inside cover had a large, elegant script: Forever Love. My heart fluttered. Is this a collection of love letters to me? I thought. I took the pregnancy test, ready to tuck it inside as my own “love letter” to him. But when I turned to the first page, my world stopped. To my eternal soulmate, Sarah. Sarah. The heroine. The blood drained from my face. My throat felt like it was stuffed with dry cotton, making every breath a struggle. My hands shook, but I couldn’t stop. I read every single entry with a sort of masochistic obsession. It wasn’t a diary. It was a decade-long confession of unrequited love. It could be summarized in one sentence: Julian loved Sarah, and he could never have her. The realization hit me: Julian was a regressor. He had lived the original timeline. He was still deeply in love with Sarah. And every ounce of affection he had shown me was a performance. He stayed close to keep me under surveillance. He married me to ensure I would never be a threat to his true love again. The joy of the pregnancy vanished, replaced by a bitterness that tasted like ash. I never wanted to hurt Sarah, but in that moment, I hated her. I envied the fact that a tiny spark of kindness she showed him years ago was enough to make a man dedicate thirteen years to “playing house” with a villainess just to keep her safe. I don’t know how long I cried. The world around me turned into a terrifying hallucination. 3 I passed out on the sofa and didn’t wake up until I heard the door. Julian was home, smelling of bourbon and stumbling slightly. “Babe, I’m home…” he slurred, smiling at me. “Sorry, the networking event went late.” I forced a smile that didn’t reach my eyes and played the part of the dutiful wife. I helped him with his tie and unbuttoned his collar. “Thanks, honey. You’re the best.” I looked at him and realized how hollow his gratitude was. If he had looked at me for even a second, he would have seen my swollen eyes. But he wasn’t looking. He was just reciting lines he’d practiced for years. I helped him into bed. As the alcohol lowered his guard, his mask finally slipped. “Sarah…” I froze. I thought I was hearing things. My nails dug into my palms. “Sarah,” he whispered again, a soft, longing sigh. I felt a cruel urge to test him. I lowered my voice, imitating Sarah’s soft, airy tone. “Julian?” He suddenly grabbed my hand, his eyes bleary but filled with a tenderness I now knew wasn’t meant for me. “Sarah… as long as you’re happy, everything I’ve done… it was worth it.” The cage of his lies slammed shut around me. I couldn’t breathe. I bolted from the room, fleeing into the hallway. My “happily ever after” was nothing more than a well-staged joke. 4 My sleep was haunted by flashes of the original Chloe’s life. In the book, Chloe bullied Sarah, hired thugs to harass her, and used her family’s wealth to crush her. In the dream, the “villainess” turned around. She had my face. It was twisted, monstrous, and terrifying. Then the dream shifted. The hero and Julian grew powerful. They came for me. Julian looked at me with cold, dead eyes, as if looking at a piece of trash. “Since you love destroying lives so much,” he whispered, “let’s see how you like it.” In the nightmare, I was stripped of everything and left to die in a cold, dark alley. “No!” I screamed, jolting upright. I found myself staring into Julian’s worried eyes. The transition from the monster in my dream to the “caring” husband in front of me made me physically recoil. He was trying to tuck a blanket around me. “Babe? What’s wrong? Why are you sleeping on the couch? You’ll catch a cold.” “Babe, are you mad that I drank too much last night? I’m sorry, the client was very important.” I shook my head, too exhausted to speak. We didn’t have a guest room. When we bought the house, Julian insisted we didn’t need one. He said he’d never let an argument get so bad that he’d be kicked out; he’d rather sleep on the floor by my side. Now I realized the truth: he just wanted to keep me under constant surveillance. He didn’t notice my silence. He just rubbed his temples. “Honey, that meeting was brutal. My head is killing me. Where’s the hangover smoothie?” “I didn’t make it,” I said flatly. Julian’s family hadn’t been wealthy, while I was a typical “rich kid.” He always said he wanted to earn my father’s respect on his own. He worked himself to the bone, refusing help from my family to start his own firm. I had spent years taking care of him, staying up all night when he was sick. I thought I was supporting my partner. But I had read his journal. I knew the truth now. [Chloe uses her family’s power to hurt Sarah. I cannot let that happen. I must build my own empire, gain enough leverage to rival her father. If they try to hurt Sarah like they did before, I will burn the Chloe’s family legacy to the ground.] His hard work wasn’t for us. It was to build a weapon against me, to protect his true love.

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